


Book Time

by ChibiStarr



Category: Den lengste reisen | The Longest Journey
Genre: Kian is being a dork, Likho is being annoyed at him nothing new there, M/M, reading books all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiStarr/pseuds/ChibiStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kian sneaks out to read books during the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Book Time

The cold stone chilled his feet even through the slippers, so cold and wet down here that it was nigh unbearable when night fell. Being deep underground had its disadvantages, doubly so when said structure was partially under the ocean and prone to dampness within every wall and crevice. The floors were constantly coated with moisture, making it slippery and the chill even worse. Kian still snuck down them anyway, ignoring the flares of pain in the soles of his feet as his tiptoed down the halls of the Enclave.

He knew he didn’t have to sneak around, he was a rebel now so him wandering the halls was not suspicious. But it was incredibly late and he did not wish to wake anyone up. He would rather not have to explain why he was walking to the library in the dead of the night without much to wear.

Somehow the books were all protected from the pervading dampness in the air. Magic, probably. It was always magic. It allowed the Marcurians to do things that defied all logic for the sake of doing it. Kian disapproved of it all but there was nothing he could really do about it. Besides it preserved all these amazing books so he could not complain  _too_ much, especially when they were all wonderful. He read through so many of them already, books about the magical races who were now his allies, devouring books about cooking to stare at the beautiful illustrations and colorful Northland ingredients, and his favorite of all that were the children stories. Books about magic and other worlds and beings beyond this planet. He might have been the Apostle, the “butcher” as Likho called him, but Kian’s heart was still as soft as that orphaned child’s who lived on the streets of Sadir.

The White Dragon. The Draic Kin. The Mother…That last title rang within him more deeply than the others and all he could think of was Mother Utana. In many ways the White Dragon reminded him of her, her gentleness and wisdom and how she cared deeply for her children. But Mother Utana was more pure, there was not an unkind bone in her body while the White of the Kin was fiercer and quite capable unleashing her wrath upon those who angered her. She was primal in her own way, a proud creature who would not tolerate human’s folly against her. Mother Utana loved too deeply to ever even consider doing the things the White Dragon had done.

Nonetheless, he loved those stories all the same.

The candle flame flickered and sputtered as he walked, pale eyes reading over the titles of the books that he passed. All of the  _Complete Annotated History of the Northlands._ He had already read them all and Likho’s disbelieving “ _How can you read twelve volumes in such a short amount of time?!”_ would always bring a smile to his face every time he thought of it. Finding the section he was looking for, he slid the books under his arm back into their proper places and began looking for replacements, peering among the spines of the books, all bound in leather and gilded with colorful scrollwork and illustrations of the Draic Kin among them. He took a few, then wandered over to the other shelves where he knew the cookbooks all lay. Those drawings really  _were_ delicious, how was he supposed to help himself?

“If you take a book about yams, Kian Alvane, I swear by Amada that I will kill you right now.”

Years of training stopped him from jumping or screaming. His heart still gave a startled leap in his chest but he turned around with all the dignity and slowness that he could muster to look at Likho, who was currently leaning against the doorway dressed in nothing but a similar robe, his arms crossed. His eye looked as annoyed as ever, but Kian sensed the severity in him that was much less than it usually was. A good sign, then. Perhaps Likho was just angry because he wasn’t capable of feeling anything else and not because Kian had snuck away while he had been sleeping.

Then again it was probably that, too.

Kian give a scoff and turned back to his books. “I am not  _that_ obsessed, you know,” he said as he browsed the titles.  _1001 Ways to Catch, Prepare, Gut, and Cook Snapjaw. Deluxe Edition._ What in the name of the Goddess? Northlanders truly were insane.

“Mhmm,” was Likho’s grumble, something that sounded more like the purr of a great beast than a Dolmari. “Tell that to Ulvic, right after you apologize for eating almost all of his salted yams then running off with the rest.”

He was glad for the little light in the room so Likho could not see his ears blushing. “No one else was eating them!” he protested, keeping his eyes firmly glued to the volumes while his stomach gave a flip. Those yams had been  _so_ good, too. He still had a few jars in his bedroom. “Besides, I left money on the bar to pay for them. In case he was angry.”

A chuckle. “It’s the thought that mattered more, Apostle,” he said and his soft footsteps came closer. For someone so large Likho always moved surprisingly quiet. Not in the total silence that Enu in all of her feline grace could achieve, but more like the hunter’s softness as he stalked his prey through the woodlands. It made Kian’s skin prickle in delight. “So, you abandoned me for some books? Children’s tales and cookbooks, no less?”

Kian did not turn around, even when he could sense Likho inches from him. His hand traced the books with all the carelessness in the world as he hooked a finger around one of the spines.  _The Magic Ingredient Cookbook._ He was curious, but at the same time knowing the Northlanders it would probably be better if he didn’t know. Besides he had learned the hard way that some of the books themselves were magical.  _The Food-Free Family Table._ Shadow take him.  _Minstrum Agata’s Ostentatious Food Choices Kitchen Manual._ Ooh, maybe that one had wonderful drawings? It felt as heavy as a brick and was about as thick as one and he lifted it under his arm with the rest of his load. “There is nothing wrong with cookbooks and tales of magic,” he said, not even looking at Likho. “One is practical and the other gives me much needed knowledge.”

“Children’s stories are neither practical nor knowledgeable.”

“Then why do people continue to tell them throughout the generations?” Kian questioned, finally turning a little to look at the Dolmari. The eye and dark hole both stared at him, the anger so deep that it could easily be felt, but still oddly subdued. Was Likho for once in his life actually trying to be calm? Maybe he should enjoy this more rather than try and irritate him more. “Besides, in the Northlands you all talk about how your legends focus on real creatures and events, so this is a good educational lessons, too.”

Narrowing eyes, a glare. “And it’s worth leaving me and my bed to find them?” he demanded, arms crossed further.

So that was the problem. Kian paused and turned to Likho, an apologetic smile on his face. “Forgive me. You were asleep so I thought—“

He never got far. Likho was never one for apologies. Instead a pair of lips crushed against his own and suddenly he was being pushed against the wall, held there tightly while Likho took his anger out on him through teeth and fingers that gripped his arms so tightly that Kian feared they might bruise. Except the harshness of hitting the stone caused him to drop his books, all of them as they fell right onto their feet. Even Minstrum Agata’s cookbook in all of its glory.

Likho’s cursing probably woke up half of the Enclave and the curious heads that poked their way of their rooms would be greet to the sight of the Dolmari dragging the Apostle back to their room while Kian tried to desperately to keep a hold on all the books in his arms. Someone was definitely going to pay for that, even when it was Likho’s fault, but Kian did not mind being the object of his punishment. As long as he got to read.


End file.
